


If You Change Your Mind

by lexicalacuna



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexicalacuna/pseuds/lexicalacuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[AU-TASERTRICKS] Thor went after Loki after the dive off the Bifrost now Loki has been exiled to Midguard to learn the error of his ways...in the home of a certain astrophysicist and her assistant. He discovers that power does not have a singular definition and certainly isn't about strength alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: I’m sorry-what?

The crack of wind and the shaking earth could only mean one thing. 

Jane barely threw a glance at Eric or Darcy as she tore out of the room, ran onto the terrace and into the arms of her beloved.

“You’re back,” she breathed, in between pants, her words coming out as a ragged whisper. 

“I promised you I’d return,” he replied, nuzzling into the familiar warm florals of her hair, pressing her against his form. 

Darcy watched on, with a mingled expression of strained joy and sadness, a small sigh punctuating these mingled sentiments. Her eyes trailed away from the happily reunited couple to the crumbled heap that no one else seemed to notice at their feet at their feet.

Her eyes widened slightly when the heap began to stir- oh gawd wait, what, is that a perso- “HOLY SHIT!” she exclaimed, leaping out of her seat and darting out after Jane. 

Loki felt as though a Bilgesnipe had trampled for hours on his chest. His ribcage was an amorphous tangle of stiffness beneath his sore flesh. Streams of exertion rippled down his muscles. The muzzle bit into the arch of his jaw, muffling his grunts of pain. His hands were still bound, so getting up was proving to be quite a challenge, given the fact that his ligaments were a tangle of soreness and pain.

Dear God. Why was this journey so unnecessarily exhaustive? And painful? Thor had gotten out of this just fine, why did he feel like he had been to Helheim and back? 

He held back the disgust that bubbled from the depths of his chest as he glanced up at his “brother” reuniting with his female companion, the saccharine moment embittering him and rekindling the jealousy he felt towards his brother- the warmth of his welcome. He managed to sit up and took a good look at the woman in his arms.

Jane Foster. That Jane. 

The mortal woman who decimated his brother’s arrogance, his resolve, his dignity….God of Thunder, pft. Soft, he sneered to himself. He noted that her soft caramel locks framed a gentle face with a classic beauty that would tempt most mortal men, a svelte frame that was probably tender to Thor’s touch- she was so vulnerable. 

It was not difficult to see why Thor might have fallen for her, the witless brute that he was, but the mortal couldn’t hold a candle to Sif’s bronzed and strong form.

“So um, hey Thor it’s nice to see you and all but WHY DID YOU BRING A HOMOCIDAL MANIAC WITH YOU?!” 

The tenderness of the moment of unity was interrupted by Darcy’s shrill question. All 3 on the terrace slowly turned to face her, simultaneously annoyed and amused at Darcy’s animated interjection.

“Good morrow Darcy, I see that you are well. Yes, Loki is with us. But there is quite an explanation to this and I’d prefer it if we did it in the privacy of your home, if you would be so kind to guide us in,” responded Thor, very kindly, nodding towards the door leading back to their home.

“Wh-I’m not going to let-but- well- um- alright” stuttered Darcy, her words a tangle of confusion and mild indignation at the suggestion that they were about to let a murderous prince into their dining room. 

She reluctantly trailed back into the room, Jane happily skipping after her, with Thor and Loki in their wake, with the former’s grip firmly planted at the crook of his brother’s elbow. 

Loki disdained being herded around like a common beast but he relented quietly, jerking his elbow out of his brother’s vice like grip. 

He would pick his battles- he will retaliate. Just, not at this juncture. 

After an awkward round of settling down with mugs of coffee, Thor turned towards Jane and Darcy and began his explanation. 

After Loki fell from the Bifröst, Thor had gone after him. He jumped in after Loki, despite Odin’s ardent protests. 

Wormholes of dark absolution weren’t sufficient deterrence to his determination to see his little brother safe, sound- alive. 

He was prepared to scour the recesses of the realms, but he found Loki in the fold between dimensions, in limbo, his irises still glazed over from the shock. 

Thor had retrieved him from the dark, the liminal gap between their realm and Helheim- and thank the Gods he managed to do so. 

Odin however, despite his initial relief, was not as happy to see Loki return from the abyss. He did what he had done with Thor- he decided that Loki would be better off without his powers, without his safeguard, and sent down to live amongst mortals- perhaps, just perhaps-it would do him some good. 

So after stripping Loki of every trace of magical ability- he sent Thor down to see that Loki would begin his new stint amongst the mortals. 

 

There was no place amongst the gods for him if he wasn’t ready to acknowledge the reality that no one was truly beneath them- that power was an illusion of arrogance. 

That true power was not Loki’s twisted conception of subjugation and absolute rule- true power came from the ability to rise above turmoil and to empathize and lead. To be a beacon amidst the darkness, not out of want for fame, but for the genuine need to reach out to all those miring in the dark- the lost. It wasn’t a vain endeavour towards self gratification, but one of growth- towards becoming a better person.

These were ideals that even the Allfather had not encompassed. He believed that legacy and enforcing a legend was a concern- but Frigga, and thank Valhalla for her- had reminded him of what it meant. Even despite her protests, they decided that some time in Midguard might do the dark prince some good.

Thor finished his explanation, his eyes a cloud of sadness but steely resolve. 

“That, my friends, is where you come in. We have come to formally request if we could take up residence in your humble abode. We will work and live beside you- we will attempt to be as little of a nuisance as possible- but we humbly ask for your indulgence. Let us live with you. Loki needs to learn”

While Loki had given up glaring at his brother a while back, the earnest idealism stifling and numbing any sort of agitation he had felt, he did feel some bile trailing up his throat at the unnecessary humility in his words. 

If anything, these mortals should be grateful- enamoured, overjoyed- at the honour of hosting the Sons of Odin.

Jane certainly seemed to share his sentiments, her expression a mask of disbelief and she was already unconsciously nodding in assent to his brother’s words. 

“Erm. What the actual fuck did you just say!?”

His head snapped towards the other mortal female, irked at yet another untimely interjection. This time, he took a proper look at her. 

He noted her ample bosom yes, but that was just the start. Her face was a pale creamy canvas, caressed with the barest hints of rose, indication of her indignation. Her thick full lips were a pale crimson, plump and inviting. Her eyes were a deep azure, with flecks of turquoise. Her warm chestnut waves fell to her shoulders, hidden under a knit hat that seemed to grip the top of her skull. 

He regretted to note that she was...fairly attractive. 

He snapped out of his reverie and smirked internally

‘A little too soon to go so soft, hm” 

“ Darcy- we would like to live with you for the duration of Loki’s exile!” Thor repeated, his tone radiating with authority, tinged with a hint of excitement. 

Darcy stared back, incredulous and unmoving, wringing her hands nervously at his words.

 

Thor glanced at her unsettled constitution, noting that her glances darted back and forth between him and Loki. 

Darcy glanced nervously at Loki, irked, afraid. 

He met her gaze head on, raising a single eyebrow. 

Darcy realized, with some fear and annoyance- that fear wasn’t the first sentiment that leapt into her heart.


	2. What is your issue?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy encounters Loki and naturally- they hit it off. "Hit it off" might be subject to..interpretation.

Holy Smokes, thought Darcy, her heart pounding a furious tattoo against her chest, homicidal tendencies aside- he really is a fine ass piece of Asgardian ass. Oh lord, Darcy you skank, you did NOT just compliment his ass. Those soft, firm little buns that I’d love to- oh fuck- 

Her eyes widened at her own internal admissions, silently chastising herself for checking out a crazed god. Crazed, shackled god who seemed to be staring right back at her. 

His expression was unreadable, a mixture of complete disdain, with a touch of curiosity. 

Thor noticed her stunned paused and cautiously reached out pat her on the arm. “Are you alright, Darcy? I do recognize that this is a little to ask but…” his voice trailed off as Darcy sputtered to life, hastily patting his arm in reassurance of her sentience. 

“I mean, yeah, it’s real sweet and all that you’re trying to help your little brother and all but I can’t…we can’t….we can’t just take him in! He tried to kill us! Well, you, but us too! I mean c’mon look at his face, just discussing this pisses him off” she blurted out, her words mashing together in rapid succession as she brandished a frenzy of fingers at a clearly amused albeit mildly irritated Loki.

Eric patted her shoulders, silently echoing her opinion as he glared at the shackled Trickster.

“Oh brother, my apologies, let me free you from your binds,” said Thor, as he reached over to free Loki from the suffocating muzzle and chafing binds. 

 

“Thor….are you sure about that?” asked Jane hesitantly, as Loki wiped the grime and sweat off his mouth and jawline, then massaging his wrists. 

“The Allfather has stripped him of his powers- he is now mortal like any one of y-“

“Do not presume that my power is any less dimished simply because I no longer possess my magic, dear brother,” sneered Loki in response, “ I am no mere mortal, like these two ladies. I am so much more than that. I don’t know what the Allfather intends for me to attain. But if it means some journey of self discovery and nirvana- I daresay you are better off leaving me to the clutches of damnation.”

“Brother…” reproached Thor but he was cut off by Darcy. 

 

“ YOU SEE- he admits that himself! He is one heck of screw up and WE are going to be screwed if we decide to be the Brady Bunch with this dude in the mix…he might you know” shrieked Darcy, slicing her index dramatically across the length of her throat. She was shaking a little, being so panicky and fearful as hell. With….with… and well, with a bit of excitement. 

He is a whole load of crazy but maybe…just maybe. Maybe he might change? I mean the Allfather dude or their dad or something didn’t kill him or punish him or something- he must have seen something worth saving! Thought Darcy, her thoughts a muddle of hesitation and anticipation at the prospect of co habiting with a pair of Nordic gods that she had Wiki-ed some time back, during The Destroyer incident. 

This internal contemplation did not go unnoticed as Loki smirked at her faltering voice, even despite her dramatized prediction of their fates. 

“I have to agree with Darcy here, Jane. This man,” said Selvig, casting a hesitant sideways glance at Loki. “This man is no walk in the park. Finding out these two exist is one thing…but living with them? If their stories in the books I’ve read are anything to go by…” his voice trailed off, his eyes wandering around the expanse of the humble environment. 

“ Eric Selvig. You are a kind man and this has not escaped my notice, it has earned my gratitude. But please. This is beyond just your concern. But...his mistakes aside…he is my brother. And I believe he can change” responded Thor softly but firmly, casting a soft glance in Loki’s direction. 

The latter gave a petulant harrumph of disdain and annoyance at the blatant declaration of sentimentality. His patience wore thin and this banter had to end soon or god help him he would do something he might come to regret and earn him that eternal damnation he opted for earlier. 

“Okay, guys. You know what. We’re not getting anywhere. Thor...Loki” interrupted Jane, nodding nervously in his direction. “You two can stay the night. But tomorrow, we are calling S.H.I.E.L.D. Well. Contacting them. I don’t think Nick Fury will take kindly to know that we’re harbouring two illegal immigrants from Asgard, with one of them being a war criminal.”

Thor’s face spit into a dazzling smile as he scooped Jane into his side, rubbing her upper arm in glee and appreciation. 

“My Jane, always a voice of reason! A good proposition! We thank you for your hospitality! Where do we retire to?”

Eric shook his head in incredulity, mumbling a hasty goodbye (alongside a few warnings) to Jane as he scooped up his coat and left for the airport. He was due in Switzerland to continue his work elsewhere. In a lab. Far away from this fantastical madness. Gods. Living with Jane. You don’t live to see this anyway. He said to himself and smiled, shaking his head. 

Back in the apartment, Jane had whisked Thor off to the kitchen, preparing a portion of Poptarts for them both as they made up for the lost time together. 

 

Darcy stared after them, slack jawed, not entirely sure about what just happened. 

But a sudden wave of lucidity washed over her as she did a mental headcount and realized who else was left in the dining room. She slowly turned to face the God of Mischief, her breath bated, not sure of what to expect. He was gone, and a flash of his cloak around the corner corridor indicated that he had entered the living room, that was just adjacent to kitchen.

He leaned back into the sofa, his arms as he folded his arms over his chest. This wasn’t the Asgardian gradeur that he was accustomed to- it paled in comparison by miles- but it was acceptable. Clean, in a state of mild disarray but it wasn’t completely intolerable. 

“So. Erm. Why are you so chill and all. Weren’t you…aren’t you pissed off by all of this?!” asked Darcy, her tone retaining a note of petulance as she cautiously approached the Trickster. 

He slowly sat up, locking her gaze in place. 

“ I choose my battles. And resistance seems to be an option that wreaks more contention and detriment for me. Why would I pursue a path that affords me more trouble than spoils?” he responded tonelessly, regarding her nonplussed expression with mild curiosity. 

Her eyebrows knitted together, processing his response. She wrinkled her nose, her mouth twitching into a frown, her lips pursed. 

He trained his gaze on the lips, taking in the luscious generosity of their proportions, their soft crimson shade…. He smirked and let his tongue dart out to lightly lick his lower lip. They were quite a tantalizing sight to behold.

“Erm yeah alright. That kinda makes sense. I guess. But dude what- why are you staring at my lips and licking your lips like you’re Lecter?! Crap are you a cannibal too!?” sputtered Darcy, realizing that he was transfixed. 

“I know not of this Lecter man, but no, I do not cannibalize gods. Or mortals. It would be unbecoming to taint my system unnecessarily,” sneered Loki in response, breaking out of his stupor. 

What this mortal form afforded him was life, yes, but it seemed to diminish his self control and composure, reducing his constitution to a frail one that seemed to be easily beguiled by things that would conventionally be colossally unremarkable. 

No wonder Thor changed so quickly, he thought. 

 

“Rude much? Fine. I was going to ask if you wanted to join us for Poptarts but you know what, that would probably be dirt to you” responded Darcy, spinning on her heel and heading for the kitchen. 

He rose fluidly and trailed after her- such impudence would not be tolerated.   
Just as she was about to exit the corridor and head into the kitchen, she felt a grip that yanked her back into the dark of the corridor, pinning her against the wall. 

“ You will learn your place, mortal, and you will recognize that I deserve more than respect. I deserve worship and I do not suffer your casual scolding, and your callous treatment. Tread carefully- do not provoke my fury. You might not live to regret it, even.” He breathed. 

His breath was hot, spicy and moist against her cheeks. It sent a thrill of fear and oh dear lord, excitement down her spine. Oh gods I should not be having a Fifty Shades moment- why do all psychopaths with power have to be so hot?! And domineering.

She studied his face closely, since it was in close proximity anyway. Even though his features were marred with a scowl, they were nonetheless striking. His nose had a prominent, proud stenosis that would make Adonis weep. His cheekbones were strong, slanting arcs of pure alabaster, his perfect skin stretched over them- flat ivory expanse against steel. His jawline was chiseled, and pristine, the kind that sculptors…and well, soon, her…would have wet dreams about. His hair was a little greasy but was of a pitch ebony that fell about his face, slicked back but in a disarray from their descent. His eyes were the most mesmerizing part. They were large, gossamer wells, tinted with shards of emerald, with the barest hint of cobalt, slicing into the gorgeous jewels of his pupils.

Loki was a crazy bastard, yeah but this man could definitely do GQ or Forbes. 

Her musings were rudely cut off by the edge of Loki’s forearm cutting into her throat, pressing her further into the wall.

“When I speak, I expect a response: do I make myself clear?” he spat, leaning even closer to his face. 

“Yeah, ow- gawd” she sputtered, as he released her, his face a mask of disdain and disgust at her lack of attentiveness and her display of nonchalance.

Darcy massaged the length of her throat for a bit before placing both her hands on Loki’s chest, shoving hard.

Caught off-guard, the God of Mischief stumbled back, startled and indignant at this blatant sign of impudence from this miniscule mortal.

“Why do you have to be such a dick about things? What the hell is this the Hunger Games or WWE? Stop shoving people into walls and acting like a complete douche. Gawd, no wonder they abandoned you here," huffed Darcy, as she left the corridor and entered the kitchen.

The God of Mischief stared after her, slightly stirred from their mild altercation. Her mild attractiveness was of little consequence at this juncture- but gods, what blatant impudence. 

He took a few moments to recover and regain his composure- she had already prodded at his calm exterior with her frivolous whinging, this minor infraction would not be a precursor to the dissolution of his resolve. 

He strolled into the kitchen, greeted by a wary glance from Jane who was soon re absorbed into her discussion with Thor about Yggdrasil and why physics and magic were analogous but definitely interlinked entities. 

He spotted the insolent mortal with the loud mouth leaning back against the counter, seemingly waiting upon a strange white and grey steel contraption that seemed to be emitting heat from the top horizontal slots on the top portion. 

Darcy noticed his entrance and kept up her air of reticence. The initial shock of meeting the two gods had worn off and Loki’s bitchfit had merely cemented her assumption that all men were the same, even gods that were over 6 feet tall, girded in leather and glorious purpose and all that bullcrap. She tapped her fingers across the marbletop counter, the soft peds of her digits playing an erratic staccato against the soft, cool surface. 

They syncopated the steps he took towards her, curiosity ripe at the back of his tongue. 

“I apologize for my earlier outburst. I am merely winded from our travel,” he offered, his voice bearing no hint of remorse or apology, 

Darcy rolled her eyes, offering a drawling “Suuuuuuuuuure” to his patronizing faux-response. She didn’t quite care for his patronizing bullshit, no matter how cut and handsome he was. Douches are douches and she had little patience for those. 

His steely smile faltered a little as he glanced at the strange steel contraption. 

“What do you hope to achieve with that-“, he asked, gesturing towards the strange device.

“I don’t know. Make food? Like Poptarts? Because mortals can’t eat roasted honey boar and pine cones or whatever it is you gods eat,” responded Darcy in a bored, disinterested tone, plucking a piping hot Chocolate Chip Poptarts out of the toaster delicately with the tips of her fingers and tossing them onto a plate.

She noticed his unwavering gaze, sighed and said in a deadpan tone “Fine. Do you want one too?”, she plucked the other Poptart out and held it on a plate, brandishing it towards him with a wavering grip.

“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, his tone still dripping with overt pleasantry, plucking it gently out of her hands. 

“No problem,” she muttered, stalking out. Thor and Jane were far too engrossed in their discussion. Thor had resorted to using various utensils and sauce bottles to illustrate whatever point he was making while Jane listened intently, eyebrows knit.

Not that Darcy would have noticed because she was a little put off by Mr. PMS in Leather. 

These gods and their Victorian passive aggressive thing things grumbled Darcy to herself, as she headed towards the living room to nestle in the couch. 

What she didn’t expect was for him to trail after and to seat himself next to the couch. 

She settled on watching Here Comes Honey Booboo- it was that or Gardening with Friends so clearly- that was the better option.

“What is this curly haired abomination and why do her parents not guide her path? She is shaming her ancestors” said an unwelcome voice, disapproval and disgust radiating from every syllable. 

“ Wait till you see Jersey Shore,” smirked Darcy in response, nibbling on the crusty toaster pastry, letting the slightly burnt sweetness mingle with the crumbled caramel. 

Pop tarts were godsent. Like. From the normal gods. The kind you shot prayers to and not these Shakespearean dudes currently shacking up with them. 

Loki did not make any more attempts at conversation and sat in silence, his long pale digits disassembling the Poptarts with clinical precision and inserting them cautiously into his mouth. 

They were agreeable but nothing remarkable. 

After a while, Jane’s voice cut into the air “I think it’s time we called it a night.” 

Darcy glanced up at her boss before letting her eyes flicked to the clock. How was it 10.07pm?! Wasn’t it just 7pm just now? Damn.

Thor chimed up in agreement and followed Jane to her quarters like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jane was a tad giggly but she didn’t protest. 

“Where will I retire to?” a smooth questioning voice cut into Darcy’s thoughts.

“What?” responded Darcy dumbly, her face impassive and stony. 

“I believe that Ms Foster has expressed that it is time for us to retire to rest. My question is- where are my quarters.” Said Loki slowly, his face unimpressed and slightly impatient.

Darcy froze, staring at his face before letting her gaze shift up.

She had not thought about that. Jane was in the shower. Thor was lounging in her room exploring her nooks (cries of “Aha!” and soft chimes of fingers rapping glass and thumbing through the pages of tomes could be heard coming from the room).

“Erm, well. Here!” blurted Darcy, patting the couch enthusiastically. 

“Do you jest? This is not fit for rest,” spat Loki in response, his indignation beginning to surface again. 

“Well there’s nowhere else!!” exclaimed Darcy in response, grabbing the edges of her sweater and fiddling with the frays. 

“Since you find this recliner so agreeable, why not relinquish your bed for the evening, like the gracious host we know you are?” sneered Loki in return. She knew he was not joking. 

Before he could say anything else, Darcy bolted up and darted to her room and slammed the door, slumping against the door in exaggerated relief, appalled at her own childishness but glad that she was able to escape unnecessarily tense conversations with him. 

Sharp consecutive raps on the door broke through her relief. 

“Darcy. Open up.”


	3. Teething Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Loki really aren't buying into this roommate thing.

Darcy took a few deep breaths, willing herself to face the door. 

Be an adult Darcy, she chided herself, this door slamming business ended in early high school and it stays that way. Her fingertips slowly reached towards the tarnished knob, and mid way there, she changed her mind and grabbed it hastily, wrenching the knob and yanking the door open. Overt dramatics were not in her nature (contrary to popular belief) and she’d open up and deal with whatever was on the other end.

She was greeted with a rather wet Jane, her brown hair slicked against her scalp and her skin glistening, fresh from a shower. Darcy took a split second to appreciate what fine bone structure she had, and how Jane could probably pass for a water nymph in another life.

“Um, Darcy? Hello? Earth to Darcy?” Jane said insistently, waving her hand in front of her gaze, sending droplets of water everywhere.

“Mhmm, yeah, ‘sup?” responded Darcy crisply, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Did you say anything to Loki?” asked Jane, her eyes narrowing a little.

“I told him he could sleep on the couch because there’s no other bed and he basically told me to get out of mine and give it to him,” responded Darcy with more indignance than necessary, realizing how petulant and infantile that sounded spoken than in her head.

“Well, Asgardian princes aren’t used to being told what they are and aren’t entitled to,” Jane responded flatly, ending off with a mildly frustrated sigh.

“Why are you telling me this- Oh gawd, what did he do?” asked Darcy, pushing past the dripping wet, slight figure before her and stalking back into the living room. 

She saw Loki sitting on the edge of the couch, with flakes of white around him. She looked around the room to find the source of the white flakes and her eyes settled on a fist sized dent in the wall behind the couch, where Loki had decided to physically express his latent (and now manifest) discontent at being told what he could and could not have.

“The fuck, dude- was that necessary?!” screeched Darcy, walking over to run her fingers over the flayed cavity in the plaster. He had punched it hard enough to hit the red brick backing the plaster, the burnt red of it blushing through the creamy white of the walls. 

“ I was merely expressing my dissatisfaction, Lady Darcy,” he sneered in return, his eyes flickering up to watch her examine the victim of his fury. 

Darcy knelt one knee of the couch, holding the headrest of the couch to steady herself, eyes closed and breathing evenly, steadying herself.

Loki watched her impassively, slightly curious as to why her reaction was so...well, underwhelming. He was expecting something with a little more dramatics. Something more hyperbolic- their short moments of contact seemed to suggest that she was prone to that sort of behaviour. 

She suddenly walked off, retreating to her room. He heard her rummaging through her cupboard, shutting the door and coming back, her brisk footsteps growing louder.

She turned into the kitchen, and he leaned forward, and finally stood up, peering around the corner to see what she was up to. She placed a matte black rectangle with a clear, hollowed out glass centre and a large, bundled black mass on the counter top while she rummaged through one of the lower drawers for something. She surface with a slightly rusted hammer and nails, picking up the items that she left on the table and returning to the living room. 

She thrust the black mass into his arms while she turned to hammer the nail into area just above the dent. 

Loki frowned, small creases furrowing into his brow, perplexed at her behaviour. Was this a Midguardian superstition or custom-? 

He soon got his answer when he looked up to see her hang the matte rectangle object (it turned out to be a frame of sorts) around the dent, framing it in the centre of the black outline. She adjusted the frame, tilting it straight until it was no longer off kilter.

She stood back to admire her work, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone was forcibly harsh but the curiosity belying the question burnt through it. 

“Well, since you decided to PMS and mark your territory, might as well turn it into a piece of art. Pretty sure those artsy hipsters dig this kind of shit, so HEY- maybe I could take a snap of this and sell prints online,” responded Darcy enthusiastically, her words tumbling out even faster towards the end.

Loki’s jaw dropped slightly- he marveled at her infantile behaviour, how she vacillated from irritation to being inspired in a matter of seconds. Above all, he was rather impressed with how she turned a disaster into something passably decent.

At a glance, the dent in the wall did seem relatively less jarring and it looked almost…artistic, as she asserted, with its monochromatic schemes, the rupture of red in the centre a mark of the anger it yielded to just minutes ago.

“Anyway, that’s a sleeping bag. And since you don’t want to sleep on the couch, fine, you can sleep in my room. On the floor. But if you try anything funny or try to kill me- well you know what Thor will do with that. But I’m serious- if your hands get at all grabby I will tase your ass back home and there’ll be no ass guard to protect you from the wrath of my taser. Capische?” she said, brandishing her right index at him, waggling her finger in an almost comical manner.

He stared at the tangled mass in his hands, his eyes shifting to the couch. He would rather sleep in a proper room than in some liminal waiting chamber.

“Fine. And do not flatter yourself, Lady Darcy, I assure you that as a child I was taught that it was unbecoming to play in the dirt,” he replied icily, smirking at the immediate effect his words had on the brunette.

“You little- you know what? You can suck it, I’m not going to give a shit about your witty ass little quips, since you seem to get off on that, I might as well get used to it,” responded Darcy, her voice a octave higher as she raised her hands up in mock surrender, retreating to her room, shaking her head.

Not only was she housing a genocidal political fugitive, she was now opening her bedroom to him.

That surely amped up her skank meter in a way she didn’t expect.

She sighed, grabbing her favourite maroon towel and slinking into the bathroom. God knows she needed a hot shower to calm her down after that hullaballoo. She paused, looking at the drawer of fluffy towels in front of her. She sifted through it, surfacing with a dark emerald towel, and shut the drawer. She asked Jane for spare male clothes- which she thankfully, had. (Loki was never touching any of her clothes)

She balled them up in the towel and retreated.

She stalked back into the living room and sighed, handing the toweled bundle to Loki “You know what? I’m feeling generous, you go shower first.”

He took the small bundle from her and without a second glance, swept into the bathroom. 

After a good 15 minutes, the running water silenced and she heard him head towards her bedroom.

“Finally,” she muttered and claimed her turn.

She undressed and hopped into the glass showering chamber and reached for her favourite Winter Candy Apple bodywash, drizzling a good amount over her red loofah and fluttering her fingers over it until she worked up a good lather.

She spread the rich smelling lather all over herself, reveling in the warm, sweet scent that melded into the soothing hot mist in the bathroom.

She washed it off and proceeded to shampoo, massaging her scalp and letting out a sigh of contentment.

She leaned her forehead against the glass, her breath coming out in steady gasps as the hot water ran down her body in twisting rivulets, washing away the strains of the evening.

By the time she was done, she was almost not at all pissed. She felt comparatively more relaxed and zen. 

She had her hair up in a towel turban and walked back to her room. She froze at the sight of a freshly showered Loki sitting on the sleeping bag on the floor, his legs stretched out and thumbing through one of her books.

Oh. She was sharing her room. Right. 

“Where did you get that?” she asked, walking cautiously towards her dresser to get her hairbrush. 

“From your collection, obviously. Did you expect me to pluck it out of the ether?” he responded blandly, slowly perusing the content. 

“Discipline and Punish by Foucault. Why…why am I not surprised?” muttered Darcy, after sneaking a peek at the title of the volume in his hands.

“Well, it seems that you Midguardians aren’t entirely oblivious. This mortal in particular seemed to have some astute observations about the benefits of control and omniscience,” responded Loki smoothly, examining a sketch of a panopticon. Crude by Asguardian standards but nevertheless effective, given the limited capabilities of these mortals.

“Pretty sure I’ve read that somewhere before- oh wait, Fifty Shades of Grey. I think you’d be into that kind of shit,” she replied, running her boar bristle brush into the tangles of hair, wincing slightly and deciding to slowly comb through the thicket with her fingers first. 

“ Do not presume to know me or my preferences, mortal,” whispered Loki, his voice tinged with just a touch of venom.

“ Presume? You clearly enjoy being in power. You like being on top,” responded Darcy with a raised eyebrow, now rubbing some argan oil into her tresses. 

Loki glanced up at her, smirking slightly. “On most occasions- of course I do,” he responded smoothly, “but I of course wouldn’t be averse to having someone else on top on others.” His eyes had a slightly manic, cheeky grin to it. 

“Yeah alright kay, I deserve that, totally had that coming,” muttered Darcy, brushing her tresses into submission, the chestnut locks smoothed out into rich cascades by her patience. 

Loki didn’t respond, instead standing up and replacing the book. He sat back down, leaning against her bedside table, staring at her go about her routine. 

“You know for someone who seems to really hate mortals and all you seem unusually interested in what I’m doing,” said Darcy pointedly, rubbing dabs of night cream into her skin. 

“It’s the same sort of fascination you have when examining a new creature, I see it all the time when you mortals visit the zoo,” responded Loki, leaning back to see the effect of his taunt. 

“Yeah alright, we’ve established that. I’m bestial, dirty, gross- gross mortal. Right.” Responded Darcy dully, stalking towards the light switch. She flicked it off and walked towards her bed. 

“Now go to sleep,” she said, snuggling under her comforter. 

Loki didn’t respond, but she did hear him shift down and adjust himself, finally stilling after a few stirs. 

She heard a mild grunt of agitation from below and sighed.

She reluctantly grabbed one of the pillows on her bed and tossed it down.

He caught it in mid air, and settled himself onto it- not a word of thanks.

She wasn’t even sure if gratitude was something he felt.

After a few tense minutes of thinking up the various ways he could kill her- asphyxiation, snapping her neck- the possibilities were endless really- she drifted off into sleep, tired out from the day’s occurrences.

Unfortunately for Darcy, even sleep didn’t offer a reprieve from reality.


	4. Wake me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange dreams and a visit to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Her dreams placed her in a bustling city. 

It looked nothing like New York. 

Or New Mexico. 

Or anywhere familiar, really.

It looked like an Asian city- like a vintage Japan? Maybe Hong Kong? She wasn’t very sure. 

She surveyed her surroundings with interest.

There was some sort of festival going on, a melee of technicolour drowned the landscape, mingling with the greyscale of the skyscrapers. The panoramic view was cluttered with vibrant warm hues of reds and gold, the hum of festivity thrumming through the air. 

It was on the brink of dusk and the horizon was a vast expanse of light, ashy azure, dappled with strokes of magenta, vermillion and sienna. The sun (or moon? Whatever that strange orb was) peeked shyly from the edge of the sky’s canvas, dipping into the deepening fallow of the evening. 

A latent sort of buzz hung in the air, with lanterns, lights and streamers fluttering in the breeze. Music- a strange mix of Oriental and carnival music, erratic strains of the zither blended into the strange, polyphonic harmony- filled the air, mingling with the cacophony of various tongues and laughter. 

She smiled and moved forward through the thicket, wanting to see more. 

Paper lanterns draped in fairylights formed a loose canopy over the crowd, the lights like small orbs of bursting sunshine, smouldering in the growing dusk. 

Suddenly, someone tugged at her arm and she saw Jane and Eric, beaming at her.

“We’ve gotta go, Darcy! Otherwise we’re going to be late!” Jane squeaked happily, tugging her by the elbow and weaving through the crowd in haste, with Eric leading the way.

“Late? For what? Where are we going?” laughed Darcy, allowing herself to be drawn along, sure that wherever Jane was bringing her was bound to be as promising.

They passed by a flurry of people of all ethnicities, Darcy could have sworn she saw Egyptians, Incans- was that a Greek goddess?!- and they whisked through the thickets of party goers until they reached the roads.

 

Eric and Jane then led her through stony alleyways like it was a labyrinth, whizzing past blurs of graffiti and soaring stone arches. Wherever she was, it was one heck of a beautiful mess.

 

They arrived at a small, nondescript looking Chinese restaurant. It was whitewashed, simple, clean but ultimately unremarkable. They trailed in, past empty tables, looking around. 

Jane motioned for Eric and Darcy to follow her, running up a narrow stairwell at the back. 

They got to the second floor and saw a bunch of people laughing and celebrating. Thor was amongst them, giving a whoop of joy at Jane’s arrival. Eric was greeted by some distinguished looking men in tweed, while Darcy stood around awkwardly, grin fading away slowly.

The tables were long and laden with little finger foods, drinks, confetti and plates. 

She suddenly felt very weak and sleepy. As beautiful and fun everything looked- she simply could not shake off the strange, empty fatigue that churned in the pit of her abdomen. She leaned against a table to steady herself, sadly surveying the merriment around her.

After what seemed like a mini eon, Jane noticed her ill constitution and swept her away, Thor in their wake.

Darcy shuffled through yet another stony labyrinth, not entirely sure where they were going or what was going on.

The arrived at a bar, its signboard alit with inscrutable, curly pink neon text. The exterior was all glass, blacked out of course, with reflective metal plates on either side. 

It basically looked like a really seedy place- the kind you went to to meet that creepy biker dude in class, even though your parents told you to stay away from. 

Jane told her to wait, as she and Thor retreated into the bar to supposedly seek help. Maybe it was a motel. Darcy wasn’t sure. She was caught in a tired feverish haze of fatigue and she could barely stand on her own two feet.

Just as a woozy spell threatened to take her posture away, she felt a strong arm settle on her upper arm, scooping her into their muscled side. 

Tired, she instinctively drew her arms around that persons waist, feeling their toned, muscle abdomen through the soft leather of their garb.

Wait- leather?

 

Darcy looked into the metal surface to see Loki embracing her, his chin resting on the crown of her head, pulling her into the warmth of his body, steadying her. 

Their eyes met in the reflection- she saw a quiet compassion in his gaze, something about it seemed to suggest that….that he seemed to care. She shook her head slowly, believing that the fever was seeping into her senses. He wrapped his arms around her back, tucking her into the concave of his body, whispering kisses on the top of her head.

She froze, still ensconced in his warmth but feeling very cold indeed, uneasiness snaking through her. 

She slowly pushed herself away, tripping over in the process, looking up at him. 

He looked down, his face impassive- the usual mask of disinterested nonchalance and she felt very small and alone.

She turned to look at the cityscape, only to be greeted by the skeletal silhouette of a city fallen, lone streamers, grey with ash, rippling in the cold gales whipping across empty street corners.

The sky was no longer a rupture of beautiful shades but a dark, looming veil of slate, draping over the derelict city. 

There were no bodies, only miles of rubble, debris and desolation. The pavements were charred lengths of granite, scorch marks grazing the walls, stark bruises of a city fallen.

She looked back up at Loki, his face contorted in a cold sneer. 

He leaned down and reached towards her, while Darcy inched away, willing herself to get up and hurtle away into the grey beyond, away from him, away from the graveyard of the city…

Darcy jolted awake, beads of perspiration prickling her temples and slowly running down the valley of her chest. 

What the hell was that?!

She turned to the left, and nearly died of fright, when she saw Loki peering at her from the floor, his face largely impassive but slightly curious.

“GEEZ- could-you stop that?” she puffed, wiping her brow with her wrist, absentmindedly tracing the ball of her knee with her right index, telegraphing the anxieties from her dream.

“You were having a nightmare, it seems,” said Loki. It was more of a statement than a question, his eyebrow raised slightly.

 

“Yeah? Well mortals have dreams. And sometimes they’re bad, now go to sleep,” she breathed, slowly settling back down onto her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut.

Loki didn’t pursue the matter, but he did raise himself up to look at her.

She had fallen back into slumber almost immediately, her brow slightly creased from the exertion of her nightmare. 

Her face was full, sculpted and beautiful under the milky gaze of moonlight, her usually crimson lips looking much paler but still full. 

She was beautiful, he admitted reluctantly. She had a beautiful profile, a scape of gentle slants and arches, her eyes framed with soft, lush fans of lashes. She was frowning slightly in her sleep, emitting a small groan as she turned over, sourcing for her bolster and drawing it towards her. 

He wondered if she had dreamed about him. Judging by her reaction, it was probably about her death. 

About him killing her, slowly. Intimately. 

For some reason, the bubble of bloodlust that usually rose up form the pits of his stomach didn’t present itself. He instead felt a slight cord of discomfort tug at him.

He frowned slightly, disregarding it as a mere reaction to the interrupted sleep.   
He shook his head and rested back down, yielding to the fatigue that came with an effervescent, latent doubt that simmered beneath his icy exterior. 

\-------

Darcy woke up to soft rays of morning sun filtering through the Venetian blinds that graced the windows, an assuring pat of light that signaled the end of the night’s horrors and the beginning of a new day. 

She slowly sat up, her eyes bleary as she ran her fists across them, trying to brush the sleep out of them, as she slowly came to her senses.

This was interrupted by a torrent of hasty knocks on the door and with Jane bursting into her room, Thor following close behind.

“Morning Darce, sorry to wake you but I’ve just dropped Nick Fury a call. We’re catching the next plane out to New York. S.H.I.E.L.D will meet us there. He comes with,” announced Jane crisply, nodding towards Loki, who was already awake, back against the dresser, arms folded across his chest.

“And why should I comply? Why,” said Loki slowly, his voice bored but edging on dangerous, “walk straight into the hands of the people who mean to hold me captive.” 

“Because they’re going to find out sooner or later and I don’t think the latter option affords you nicer consequences,” responded Jane, her eyebrow cocked questioningly. “You guys better get dressed. It’s 8.03am and the flights in 2 hours or so. Get going!” She turned her back on him and left the room.

“She speaks the truth, brother, secrecy will reap nothing but trouble,” reaffirmed Thor with a nod, before taking his leave as well. 

Darcy stared after the both of them, the fog of sleep barely lifting. “Well, guess we better hop to it then,” she mumbled with forced enthusiasm, hauling her legs over the side of the bed and sauntering towards her closets, searching for a duffel bag for herself and Loki.

“You mortals presume to order me about, my movements at your beck like a strung marionette, twitching in fear at your seeming threats, well I regret to inform you that I do not take kindly to it,” he sneered quietly in response. 

Darcy sighed, straightening up to face him “Look Loki, I don’t make the rules. I honestly don’t even know why we have to do all of this. I don’t like this any better than you. So why not NOT take this out on me and just get pissed at Fury later, yeah?” she responded tiredly, and resumed packing, shoving random handfuls of clothes into a duffel bag. 

Loki watched her impassively as she bustled around the room, tying everything together before their departure.

After a good half an hour or so, she shoved a black duffel bag into his arms, slung hers over her shoulder and left the room without a second glance back at him.

He stared at her retreating figure, wondering why she was so taciturn and irascible, if he was the one that was going to be bearing the brunt of the consequences.

\------

Darcy marveled at the muted grandeur of the S.H.I.E.L.D facility, a monument of soaring ceilings, slate, greys and cold metal. Small lights flickered at every entrance, a dangerous twinkle that forewarned the contents of each room. Agents walked past briskly, a blur of shiny black before disappearing into the shadows of the corridors.

Jane gazed around the room with fascination, wondering if this was a promising precursor to the sort of technology and equipment they might have available within.

Thor strode down the foyer confidently, undaunted by the stifling quiet that seemed to engulf the environment.

Loki was curious but generally disinterested, walking slowly down the corridor as the soft thuds of his boots punctuated the hollow wailing of the vast building.

Midguardians and their tendency to feign greatness. 

They were soon met by a nondescript, brunette agent who nodded curtly at them before ushering them into an elevator shaped like a glass capsule, as they zipped into the bowels of the facility, descending into the depths of S.H.I.E.L.D.

They found themselves trailing through a maze of corridors speckled with a myriad doors, some reinforced, some plain and unremarkable.

The agent stopped abruptly at a large, reinforced door that was almost vaultlike and rapped sharply on its surface.

The door buzzed open with a loud, dead hum, and the agent gestured for them to enter.

The door shut behind them with a sibilant hiss, sealing them in to face whatever lay within.

Nick Fury stared at them point blank, and with a curt brandish in Loki’s direction,

“Explain.”


	5. We didn’t see that one coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is unnecessarily upset about a turn of events, Loki gets taken into custody.

Thor strode forward and explained everything- the Allfather’s ruling, their present arrangement at Jane & Darcy’s.

“So, you expect me to believe that you, the God of Thunder, and your brother, the God of Tricks- are living in New Mexico. With an astrophysicist and a political science intern,” said Fury, slowly, his good eye widened, eyebrow raised in incredulous disbelief.

“ Indeed. It is not the most ideal of arrangements, but if the Allfather has faith that this course of action would reap good and sow kindness in Loki’s heart- it is one we will accept and pursue,” affirmed Thor firmly, his hands flattened across the expanse of the cold steel desk. 

Nick Fury sighed, moving towards them slowly.

“You see, this kind of….complicates things,” he started slowly, trying to phrase things properly. “Besides the fact that there are many consequences to this course of action- dangerous, consequences I might add- I don’t think the Council will be very happy about you harbouring a man who just tried to enslave the human race. Apart from that, what are you guys going to do if he decides, that he’s done with rehab and ready to go back to violence?”

“ Loki does not have his powers, I have mine, and I have the word of the Allfather- whatever complications will be dealt with,” responded Thor, with an affirmative nod in Loki’s direction.

Loki’s eyes glittered dangerously- he really did not enjoy being discussed so casually, like a piece of collateral to be callously traded and handled.

“You will let us examine him. We need to ascertain that he is safe and “magic free” as you put it. If he tries to retaliate, we will respond in kind,” said Nick, glancing at Loki, giving him a one over, and deciding that his cocky repose could not possibly be held by someone who truly was powerless. 

“What is the nature of this examination?” asked Thor warily, striding forward, his finger brandished in Fury’s face.

“We’ll run a few tests to see the strength of his physical state at this juncture, his capacity to use magic-just basic tests to see if he’s safe. Even then, I can’t guarantee you all can carry on home immediately. We might have to keep him here a couple of days for observation.”

Jane listened, on worrying her lip between her teeth, unnerved by the clinical detachment in which Fury described Loki’s upcoming treatment but recognizing that it was the best step forward.

“Isn’t that….a little harsh?”

 

Everyone in the room turned to face Darcy, surprised at her sudden interjection.

Darcy was a little less empathetic to Fury’s statements, she fidgeted on the spot, mumbling to herself and her head snapped up at Fury’s last words.

“I mean…he has done bad things but...all that? Isn’t that a little…much? He had last night to kill us all, me especially, we slept together- no! NO! Not in that way,” stammered Darcy at the last few words, struggling to parse her words. “ I mean he slept in my room ‘cos he didn’t want to sleep on the couch and well he could have killed me. And he didn’t. I think that says something.” She finished, with quavering finality in her tone. 

She looked back down, picking at a fray in her jacket as she waited for Fury to respond. 

Thor looked on, smiling slightly at Darcy’s earnest words. Jane looked at her, head cocked to one side- this was so something Darcy would do, yet not. That was odd.

Loki couldn’t help furrowing his brows and frowning in response to her words- what foolishness. Did she not realize he could have ended her life in an instant- even without his powers? But- she was right, yes. But why would she raise that? Didn’t she express her discontent at his presence just earlier that day? Wouldn’t her statement run contrary to them?

“That is a fair point, Miss Lewis but it’s a risk we don’t want to take. According to our intel- The Destroyer incident was the work of this man right here. He is dangerous. Do you want to risk the fate of thousands of people, just out of your pity for one misguided man?” asked Fury, his eyes flashing angrily.

“Look…I’m not denying all of that. He’s done screwed up things. He has issues. But I don’t think that’s the way to go,” responded Darcy firmly, looking up slowly to face Fury.

“It’s just a couple of tes-“

“I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. You’re going to torture him! These tests- they’re not going to be nice and he doesn’t deserve it,” yelled Darcy in response, surprised at her own interjection and emotional response.

Jane patted her back gently, trying to calm her down. Thor looked at her incredulously, not quite sure he was witnessing the conviction before his eyes.

Loki was simultaneously irritated and grateful- this foolish mortal and her sentimentalities were horrifically meddlesome- but that was the precise thing that was delaying his imminent mistreatment and for that he was grateful.

What eluded his understanding was the motivation for this behaviour-his confusion grew with the minutes passing. Why was Darcy acting this way?

“This is beyond your control, Miss Lewis. Contain yourself or we’ll do that for you,” challenged Fury, his fist tightening in response to her voiced vexations.

Darcy stormed out of the room and into the corner, blazing down the corridors until she reached a washroom. 

She flung the door open and approached the sink. 

She wrung her hands anxiously in the sink, her fingers a tangle of suds and worry- why was she being so irrationally concerned about all of this?

Did she care for Loki or something? No, she reasoned in her head. She came to the conclusion that she was merely uncomfortable with the idea of torture and unnecessary mistreatment- there was something sick and wrong about that.

Yeah, he deserved it. But what would all of that achieve, all of those scientific tests? Would they even be conclusive? Marginally, maybe. But she knew why they were so willing to employ those tests in the first place- and it wasn’t the love for science or the pursuit of knowledge. 

She didn’t like the idea of retributive justice- she didn’t believe that two wrongs made a right, or that responding in kind achieved much. 

She let these thoughts fall, swirling down into the metal drain of the sink, in a vortex of murky suds. 

She heaved a sigh and leaned her weight into her palms, balancing on the edge of the marbled sink top.

This whole thing has barely been going on for 2 days and already it was vexing her so. She couldn’t understand why it had this effect on her.

“Darcy? You alright?”

Darcy looked up to see Jane approaching her, worry creasing her fine features.

Darcy sighed, and walked towards her “ I guess. I don’t know why I got so het up over all of that I mean, Loki’s been nothing but a douche. But I don’t know. I’m just, not comfortable with what S.H.I.E.L.D’s doing. And we brought him here and all, and I feel bad,” she mumbled, feeling some tears prickle the edges of her eyes, rubbing them away before they could fall.

Jane watched her, chewing on her lower lip as Darcy leaned her forehead against the wall, sighing deeply.

She reached out and gently stroked her shoulder “ Sorry Darce, but our hands are tied here.”

“And soon, his will be too,” whispered Darcy, finally succumbing to her moment of vulnerability.  
Thor stared after Jane and Darcy’s departure, concerned and yet perplexed at the turn of events thus far.

Fury walked towards the door, stopped and glanced at Thor. “I’m sorry- but it’s for the best and this is a risk we cannot take right now. It’ll be over soon enough”

He left, without a glance in Loki’s direction, leaving the brother’s to the heavy silence of the room.

It was soon shattered, with Loki’s fist coming down hard on the metal desk, the clang resonating into the vast emptiness of the room.

“Why is it, dear brother, that all your attempts at facilitating my redemption result in this? My incarceration. Is this what you wanted?” seethed Loki, rounding on Thor, his teeth bared in a snarl as he closed the distance between them.

“You know full well I did not ask for this! All I have ever wanted and all I worked and bartered for was for YOUR wellbeing, Loki!” roared Thor in response, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them in response to Loki’s chiding. 

Loki threw Thor’s hands off and stalked off into the corner, slamming his fist into the wall again. 

“Um…Thor?”

The brothers spun around to look at Jane and Darcy standing at the door, their faces stunned at the ruckus they just paid witness to.

“Jane. We cannot do much but to submit to the authority of S.H.I.E.L.D. I will make sure that they do not cross the line. I cannot allow them to torture him to the cusp of death. I will not allow that,” responded Thor, his eyes a flat, steely blue as he approached Jane and clapped his hand on her shoulder, pulling her towards him. 

Loki turned away in disgust- at the hypocrisy of the whole situation. He didn’t want protection, he wanted admiration. To be revered. Not to be treated like vermin, at the disposal of Midguardian scientists and their whims. To be the crucible of their sadistic curiosities and fears. 

His rage frothed, thick and dark, clouding his reason and pushing him towards even more violence. But beneath all of that was the weak drift of fear- of helplessness. That this was what he was reduced to and where he stood- a science experiment, a criminal fugitive at the mercy of Midguardians. The helpless little brother who could do nothing but submit, waiting for his bigger brother to lick his wounds. 

He seethed, hitting the wall again, letting out a feral snarl as his fist made impact.

Thor shook his head and left the room with Jane. 

Loki stared into the wall, at the fissures of dented metal trailing into the expanse of steel around it, letting his rage slowly seep into the jagged rivulets.   
He felt a small, soft clap on his shoulder and he threw the hand off, rounding on the individual, ready to strike.

He was greeted with the sight of a terrified Darcy, flinching at his response, recoiling backwards.

He lowered his hand slowly, turning away from her. 

“What do you want?” he spat, not wanting to look at her. 

“I’m…..I’m sorry. I’m sorry we can’t do anything.” she said softly, looking down at her scuffed black Converse. 

“Evidently. Is that all you wanted to say?” he said, his voice impatient and sardonic.

“I’m…we….I’m just sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” she said quickly, her voice cracking a little. 

He stole a glance at her before she fled the room- her eyes were bloodshot. 

Why? Had she grown sentimental? Was his welfare that important to her?

He dismissed these thoughts, feeling uncertainty creep into the thicket of rage filling his mind.

He had little time to process these thoughts as a group of armed agents soon swept into the room, detaining him with cuffs and a muzzle. 

He felt the point of a rifle poke into the blades of his shoulder as he was roughly shoved out of the room. 

It started here then, it seems.


	6. Empathy is wasted on fools.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Torture sequences- not that grisly, though. Slight angst in this one!

He was herded into the maze of corridors, shoved and ushered along by the bevy of guards. 

He quietly noted the route- just in case escape was subsequently on the agenda, he was able to navigate his way around.

They soon arrived at a vast grey elevator, and they pushed him in, earning a soft snarl in response. 

The elevator travelled further into the bowels of the hollow grey facility, the emptiness of the depth howling in the background.

Most of the guards kept their gaze stoic, staring forward into the reeling space before them, while others threw careful, nervous glances in Loki’s direction.

He hadn’t given them any reason to fear him so far but the caution was purely instinctual- the man emanated dangerous vibes the same way sex symbols oozed pheromones. 

His feral ferocity did not have to proliferate in order for them to recognize that unnecessary provocation would mire them in quite a situation.

They finally arrived at their destination, which turned out to be, of course, yet another tangle of corridors. The difference this time was the colour of the walls.

They were all whitewashed to a stark, clinical white, with not a single speck of dirt on them. Harsh fluorescent lights bore down on the halls- everything looked unnaturally clean and pure, yet there was something oddly unsettling about the general sterility of their environment.

The air was light, cold, and the smell of disinfectant clung to the chill, metallic undertones crept beneath- the seeming tranquility was an eerie precursor to the events ahead.

Loki looked around his environment impassively- he had been bound to a rock in past, bound by entrails, the torturous moments syncopated by drops of venom bearing down on him. Contrary to Midguardian delusions, there was no loyal maiden with a bowl to serve as a crucible for the poison and his hurt. He was alone and he bore it. 

What could they possibly think of to get back at him?

As if in response to his musings, he felt a sudden a blow to the back of his head, which was quickly followed by the soft, sharp stab of a needle to the base of his neck.

He stumbled into the ravenous darkness that greeted him, his senses yielding to nothingness.

What followed was a pastiche of disjointed memories, fantasies and horrors.   
He danced slow, lazy pirouettes in and out of consciousness, trembling on the dichotomy between insanity and serenity. 

He woke up to various scenes-

-his wrists being strapped down, his body on a metal slab. He couldn’t even struggle, whatever they had put into his system coursed through his veins, a sludge of toxins that left him incapacitated and scarcely sedated, his mind a foggy thicket of perplexity. 

He yielded to the darkness again, bolting awake upon being stung by sharp stabs of electricity jolting through his nerves, each one stronger than the last, jagged rasps of energy chafing against every nerve ending and slamming into the core of his system. 

He could barely struggle, his head lolling to one side, his temples resting on the chilled metal as he tried to clutch on to his consciousness. 

The next jolt snatched his vision away again as he was again consumed by darkness.

He awoke to the dull thuds of pounding- he could barely make out a blur of brassy blonde and gold banging against the glass, making inaudible sounds that seemed to segue into the dead hum of the white clinical room. 

His eyelids fluttered, as he saw the red and gold figure fading into the distance, accosted by blurs of milky white figures. 

Darkness. 

He felt sharp pricks of ice bite into his veins upon his next bout of consciousness, leaving him wracked with inexplicable tremors. Being Jötun didn’t seem to make him impervious to cold, as he felt a tangible, dreadful chill snake through him. 

He was reduced to a trembling heap, unable to insulate himself against the assaults of the liquid blizzard that ravaged his system. 

A prick of a hypodermic needle gave him reprieve, plunging him into the darkness. 

He greeted it like an old friend- it was the only comfort in a ceaseless ordeal that had no end. Resistance was a Sisyphean effort that would never reach fruition- all he could do was wait it out. 

The next trial was the most shocking by far- a searing, blinding heat raced through him, razing his senses in a trail of hot lightning and pulsing agony. The fire was serpentine, cruel and meticulous in its destruction, causing him to cry out in soundless gasps of pain. It was a rupture of white hot light, punctuated with flashes of deep, swirling crimson as Loki thrashed on the metal slab- unable to defend himself. 

After what seemed like eons, alternating courses of pain- shocks, fire, ice, heat, freeze- it stopped. 

He awoke in a dimly lit room, on a white bed with a thick duvet. The blood in his ears pounded furiously as he laid there, unmoving, his breaths shallow but loud in the blaring silence of the isolated space. 

He stared up into the grey canopy of the bed, his thoughts unfocused and slack, still fogged from torment. 

He waited. On what, he did not know, but he didn’t want to move, to shift- to do anything. He merely needed time to recover. 

As if in response to these thoughts of isolation, he sensed someone shifting into the empty space next to him, settling onto the stool next to his bed. 

He felt someone slowly reach out, placing their hand on his shoulder. He grabbed it, trapping it in a vice grip as he slowly turned to face the intruder. 

He was greeted by Thor’s concerned expression, his face set in a crease of worry and anxiety. Lines etched into his forehead, his eyes solemn and his mouth set in a grim line as he patted Loki on the shoulder. 

Loki snarled, twitching away from Thor. He pretended not to see Thor’s pained expression, and his stiffened grip as he slowly withdrew his hand. 

Thor looked on, feeling his heart wrench as Loki laid there, gaunt and spent. What was the point of this strength, the power, the respect- if he was still left helpless, unable to help his younger brother. 

“Brother,” began Thor, his tone shaking, his hand grasping the edge of the bed as he watched Loki close his eyes, taking slow easy breaths as he tried to calm himself. He let out a sibilant hiss of anger at the term, his knuckles bleeding into white as his hands balled up into tight fists. 

“What….happened?” asked Loki, after a while, his voice a hoarse, grating whisper that bit into the crisp silence. 

“I know not what happened, not in detail. It is knowledge I do not wish to possess because it reminds me of the reality that I cannot seek recompense for actions that were meted out to a deserving individual who should not have faced any retribution at all,” responded Thor, the rumble of his baritone concealing the belying hurt. 

“What I can tell you- is that it is over. The men of science have sated Fury’s curiosity and soothed S.H.I.E.L.D’s fears- you are safe now, they will not touch you, not at my behest,” continued Thor, allowing feigned authority to creep into his tone, trying to convince himself that this truly was the end of his brother’s torments. 

This was not rehabilitation, this was merely an attempt to slake the thirst for righteousness, a desperately harsh attempt to re-establish a power equilibrium that was never in their favour in the first place. 

Loki did not reply. His eyes remained closed. His sinews and muscles felt like withered, brittle stalks of aged twine- each movement sent a riptide of soreness slicing through his nerves. His flesh was soft, pallid and sickly- none of the hard strength it used to have. 

He opened his eyes, temporarily blinded by the flash of fluorescence bearing down on his irises, he watched his vision slowly stabilize, translucent, blinking dark circles dancing in and out of his line of sight as his eyes adjusted to the glares of solid reality, and not the liminal echelons of torture that he had grown to expect. 

The brothers sat together in silence- the almost silent clicks of the moving clock hands weighing the sparse moments of fragile peace and comprehension.

After a long while, Loki slowly began to stir, trying to sit up, feeling pain spiral up in jolting jagged fractals up his limbs, his back, his abdomen. 

Thor immediately offered his assistance and effortlessly scooped Loki up in his arms, kicking the door open as they left the eerily sterile clinic room. 

Loki flitted in and out of consciousness as Thor navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the facility, careful to not let anything or anyone brush against the limp, semi comatose form of his brother. 

Loki was barely awake in the car, his eyes taking in the fleeting reel of landscapes, blending from slate and smoke into warmer, earthier tones. 

He awoke in a plush bed, the sharp scent of citrus and spruce pricking his nose as he stirred to his senses, overwhelmed by the myriad sensations.

The air was crisp, citrus, spruce, smoked cedar, musk- a hint of tobacco? The sheets were divine, unbelievably soft, yielding to the weight of his form. 

The room was mostly silent, with soft strains of classical music playing in the distance. Random voices and strings of conversation peppered the music.

Loki slowly shifted his weight, feeling slight pulses of pain prick through his form as he strained to sit up- he succeeded, grabbing the headboard and the sheets to steady himself. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head against the headboard, taking in what had happened, where he was, what to d-

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door being opened, and cautious footfalls approaching his bed. 

He turned his head to face a rather disheveled Darcy, her eyes wide at his notice.

“Um. Hey Loki. I just wante-“ Darcy began awkwardly.

“Why are you here? Have you come to mock me? Do you enjoy seeing a god brought to his knees by the technological claws of Midgard?” hissed Loki, mustering just enough ferocity to throw her off without exhausting himself.

Darcy averted her eyes, slowly approaching his bedside, a hand tangled in her curls as she continued to speak. 

“N-no, it’s not like that- I just wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all,” she said hurriedly, her voice glossed over with forced neutrality. 

“I don’t need your sympathy, your simpering pleasantries. If you have come to see the extent of my suffering- well here you are. Take a glance, relish it- then leave me.” 

Loki’s voice was sharp and sibilant, his eyes icy shards as he glared at her. 

“Well fuck you very much Loki. I’m sorry you don’t know how to fucking act when people want to be nice to you! GOD! Why can’t you just be normal for once and –“ responded Darcy angrily, flaring up at his harsh words. 

She was interrupted by the fact that Loki’s hand had found itself in a vice grip around her wrist, pulling her towards him. Whoa, he’s pretty strong for a sick dude who has just been tortured for days. 

“Listen to me, Darcy,” Loki started, his voice saturated with derision, “I will not suffer these Midgardian niceties and cooing- I do not need nor want your presence, your soothing- I need no salve for the burning humiliation of my torture. Now leave me before I’m forced to make you do so.” He let go off her wrist with a thrust of his hand, sending her reeling slightly. 

Darcy looked down, determined not to let him see the tears pooling in her eyes- not at hurt (well, maybe a little), but at the utter indignation at his ridiculous behaviour. 

“Fine, have it your way,” she huffed, throwing something at his dresser before stalking out of the room, the slam of the door signaling her departure. 

Loki closed his eyes, leaning back once again, the exertion of their encounter taking a slight toll on him.

He let a few moments pass and then he remembered the item Darcy had left behind. He turned his neck towards the dresser, his hand reaching out to grope for it.

He withdrew his hand to find a small wrapped bundle of blue fabric. Inside, he found a small container of lukewarm soup, alongside a crushed package of chocolate chip cookies and a crumpled green Post It. “Get well soon, Loki (: -Darcy”

Loki surveyed the assortment of items in his lap- not quite sure what to make of it.

Servants had prepared and brought to him food in the past at Frigga’s behest- but no one beyond his charge had ever taken the care to prepare something that was not ordered- an act of care unbidden. 

He gripped the sheets, trembling slightly, a mingled ball of frustration, confusion and disappointment writhing in his chest. 

Empathy was for fools, and yet here he was- bowled over by the compassion of a mortal he barely knew.


	7. Reticence isn’t always indifference.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello there, Stark! But of course, things don't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLARIFICATION: I know in Chapter 1 I placed this after Thor, but then again I did want to include the events from Avengers. Then Thor 2 came out. So I’m going to make this AU, where Thor 2 never took place. This takes place sometime after Avengers, where Loki tried to escape again and was taken in by the Allfather. Yes, this is just a convenient context I’m setting up but please, be nice, just play along?

The next few days were a dull blur for Loki, one day seguing into the next, torrid sequences that flashed sunlight one moment, paling into moonbeams the next. Besides the changing lights, the only other indicator was the attendance of a nurse who came by to offer him sponge baths and food, treatments which he accepted without quarrel because Loki recognized that the alternative was starving quietly in squalor, reeking of his own waste and decay. A doctor also came in once or twice to check up on him. Loki let him go about his duties, as the doctor was curt and unassuming, discharging his responsibilities with a quiet detachment and nonchalance that Loki appreciated. 

Loki often drifted in and out of sleep, gripping onto his sheets tightly, his dreams were strange vignettes of memories past and those to come, a perplexing pastiche that left him longing, lost and frustrated after rousing each day.

He found that slumber was no longer sufficient in helping him tide over the empty hours, so he filled the time with idle readings of any works that the attendant brought in, distracting himself from the sour gall that came with a steady recovery, feeling his energy, magic and vitality slowly creep back in. After a while, he even began to pace about his room, doing small tricks to test the extent of his returning capabilities, conveniently tucking the memory of Darcy’s kindness at the back of his head.

He kept the curtains drawn, not yet ready or willing to greet the petty bustling of the outside world, 

After what seemed like a week or so, there was a knock on the door, persistent, but gentle. Loki sighed, expressing his assent dully, not looking up from his book.

“Brother,” Thor said curtly, nodding at Loki as he entered, his tone strident and firm but his movements cautious, as if moving about in the presence of a startled animal. 

Loki glanced up from his book, his expression showing mild surprise. “Thor,” he greeted. “And what brings you here?”

Thor approached Loki slowly, carefully bending to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have not left your chambers for more than a week,” he started slowly. “It might do you good to venture out.”

“How astute of you,” Loki remarked callously, not glancing up as his gaze determinedly latched onto the pages before him. “Was that the purpose of this visit? To lure me back out to face the mortals who so…adore my presence?”

Thor sighed, shaking his head as he inched over, placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder. Loki tensed visibly, his posture becoming slightly more rigid as his brother leaned in. 

“We’ve been concerned. Jane has been asking of you- not because she wants your help- though I think you could render it- but no. You’ve been quiet. And alone. It does you no good, “ Thor said solemnly, his expression earnest as he stared hard at Loki.

“Tomorrow evening is the celebration of an event on Midgard called Good Friday. They wish to have a feast, an evening of merrymaking- it would do you good to come. If anything, for me,” Thor said slowly. 

Loki’s expression changed almost indiscernibly as he glanced up to look at Thor, shutting the book, searching his face for any trace of the callous derision he was so accustomed to seeing. 

“A celebration,” he repeated slowly, as Thor nodded in confirmation. 

“And you think they would have me?” Loki continued sardonically, raising a brow. 

“They requested it, even Fury,” said Thor, speaking carefully. The Director had not requested it- but his grunt of assent to Thor’s request to bring his brother along was a lot more promising than the heated objection he had anticipated.

Loki sighed, closing his eyes and shrugging his brother’s hand off. “You have always been an atrocious liar,” he remarked as he stood up, gazing out of the window. 

Thor watched him muse, rising to leave, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. 

“What is the dress code?” Loki asked with a sigh, slowly turning around to face him, his expression resigned, the barest hint of a smile etched on his lips.

Thor spun around, a broad grin spreading across his face, torn between disbelief and confusion. “You would come?” Thor reaffirmed searching his face for the usual pompous disapproval at his “bumbling oafish” ways.

“I just agreed to it, did I not?” Loki asked with a slight tilt of his head. “There is nothing in this room that is particularly riveting. The merrymaking will be relatively more...amusing, I’m sure,” Loki continued drily, his mind working. 

That girl. She would be there wouldn’t she? Not that he longed to see her, not that he wanted to see her but…she would be there. 

Thor didn’t seem to notice his thoughts trailing elsewhere, instead clapping his arm, chuckling good heartedly, babbling a stream of pleasantries. Loki nodded absentmindedly, bidding him farewell as he walked him to the door. 

He sighed, sitting down on his bed, picking up his book and absently flipping to the page he was last at, the contents on the page no longer fascinating.

He sat there, a strange of restlessness writhing in his gut, effervescent and relentless. Why was that girl on his mind? 

He groaned, tucking the book away, leaning back, closing his eyes, massaging his temples.

 

Jane tapped on the ‘enter’ key with resounding finality as she spun around to face Darcy, ready to rave about how the equation had finally been resolved. 

Instead, she found the intern squinting at her screen, a slight frown marring her features as she chewed on the end of a pencil absently, trying to suss out the data on the screen. 

Spreadsheets had never been her forte and at that moment, the formulas didn’t seem to be adding up.

“Lighten up, Darce!” Jane said with a slight chuckle, walking her to squeeze her shoulders affectionately. “It’s the Easter bash tonight! Finally something fun!” she said, her voice more relieved than excited at the prospect of having a reprieve from work, and some time to spend with Thor.

“Yeah, sure,” Darcy muttered, staring at the screen. With Thor’s return, Jane had been more than a little distracted. Yes, she had been working alongside Darcy but her productivity rate had plunged lower than Darcy’s skankiest top. 

“Who has Easter parties anyway,” she muttered with slight incredulity, reaching over to grab a worn manila folder, flipping through to find an old reference sheet to check the formula. 

“A party’s a party, there’s going to be nice food and wine and everything,” Jane babbled on, smiling at Darcy. “Well, I’ll leave you to your work now, but you come along, alright!” she said, walking off. “I’m going to go get ready!”

Darcy nodded absently, immersed in the data. Holidays meant days off and the system would be shut- she would be behind on her work, as if the data wasn’t already daunting enough, with at least thirty spreadsheets waiting to be analyzed. 

She sighed, saving as much as she could onto her hard drive, priming the necessary data for more work later. 

\-----  
7:42PM  
STARK BALLROOM   
STARK TOWER

The ballroom was the latest addition to the Stark Tower, a few levels below the penthouse level, but it was no less stunning. 

It was a large room done up tastefully in alternating accents of wood and granite, with glass paneling all around them. There were banquet tables littered around the room, displaying a delectable array of dishes, with an equally impressive selection of booze available at the open bar. 

The room was dimly lit, glowing light cobalt as funky house music piped in in the background. Everyone was smartly dressed, deciding to doll up for a bit to celebrate the Easter weekend. Work had been tedious of late for all, and it was a good time for them to let their hair down. 

A couple of Stark Industries employees milled about- not everyone was particularly high ranking, they were mostly people Tony got along with and took a liking to. 

S.H.I.E.L.D was present as well, with Fury and a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D agents mingling around, admiring the architecture of the room and artefacts on display. (Tony used the ballroom as a gallery and museum when it wasn’t hosting a party, and he kept a carefully curated collection of pieces from around the globe)

The Avengers were all present, even Dr. Banner who was chatting to a cheery Pepper about R&D ventures, as Tony teased Steve about his lack of date, trying to convince him to take the contact of some very capable ladies who would be glad to keep his company, with Steve politely declining his offers, flushing. 

Thor and Jane sat in a corner, drinks forgotten as they chatted about their week, with Thor’s stormy blue eyes twinkling in the dark and Jane’s giggles barely audible over the music. They took bites of the little crostini and canapés, sipping their wine in between words, soaking in the atmosphere. 

Even Clint and Natasha were present, sipping whisky in a corner gazing out at the stunning panorama in front of them, exchanging hushed words, an occasional smile or chuckle passing between them. 

Tony has insisted on the party, saying that in light of everything that took place, this was a great way unwind and more importantly, to take a moment to be grateful for the things that mattered, to celebrate a new lease of life.   
Everyone dismissed it as bullshit, assuming Tony was looking for an excuse to have a party, but at the back of their heads, they knew that he was right. They have been lucky of late, escaping the Chitauri invasion and managing to clean up the town pretty darn good. 

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves- the atmosphere was warm, pleasant and cheerful.

Well, perhaps not everyone.

Loki stood in a corner, nursing a glass of Pinot Noir, swilling it idly as he took the occasional sip, glancing out over the rim of his glass at the crowd, letting the bitterness spread across his tongue, curdling at the back of his throat before swallowing. 

No one dared strike up a conversation with him, some were terrified, while others just recognized that he’d prefer his solitude. He scanned the crowds, watching the young and old alike cavort, laugh and socialize, reveling in the joy of the early evening. 

After a while, he frowned, realizing what was amiss. That girl seemed to be missing. Usually her loud, callous demeanour would have been evident by now, she would be the sort to thrive in an environment like this. 

Tony noticed Loki’s reticence, not that he was surprised, but he detected a certain discomfort in the trickster’s demeanour. “Aren’t you the little merrymaker,” he quipped, sidling over to Loki, who steadfastly ignored him, gazing ahead. 

“Tell you what, go explore the rest of the tower, there are lounges downstairs with nice books and all, probably a little more chill and more your type,” he said, nodding towards the elevator. 

Loki nodded curtly at him in thanks, sweeping towards the door, oblivious to the slight twinkle in the other man’s eye. 

“You did that on purpose,” chided Pepper, as Loki walked out. “You know she’s in the lounge closest to us!” 

“Is that so?” Tony said in mock disbelief. “Well, maybe she needs a little company too.” 

\----

It was pushing 8pm and it was already an hour into the party, but Darcy sat in a lounge a few levels below, tapping away at her laptop, taking a sip of her coffee (double shot mocha with caramel drizzle) grumbling at the data sheets. 

This was so unlike her, she always loved a good party. They should have seen the way she ripped up the dance floor in Ibiza with those cute Argentinian students, as Pitbull performed in the background.

But no. She had been putting this off for a while and now she had to pay for it, by missing a Stark party.

She had overheard Tony boasting about the alcohol selection he would have out but now all she had was a half full venti cup- not that she was complaining, but hey, some Bacardi cokes even would have been great, it would help with the growing knot of unease in her stomach anway. 

Tony was really sweet to offer her the lounge, with the power plugs, plush sofas and all, it was perfect. He had gone the extra mile with the espresso machine and mini barista bar in the corner, coupled with a small tureen of the finger foods they had upstairs. 

She sighed, shuffling through a few documents before she felt the discomfort in her abdomen grow. 

She held her stomach as she dug through her purse for her pillbox, her movements becoming increasingly imprecise and shaky as she tried to pop an aspirin, hoping it would kill some of the pain. 

She waited for a while, taking shaky sips from a mug of water before whimpering, doubling over and clutching a cushion to her stomach, trying to manage the pain. 

\---  
Loki walked down the corridor, in the direction of the lounge the JARVIS had directed him to, about to push open the door. 

He paused, frowning. That was odd, there seemed to be a peculiar, muffled hum coming from the room. And it wasn’t the usual hum of energy that came with the presence of the sentient artificial intelligence that Stark programmed throughout the building.

He listened more intently, trying to decipher what it was. 

He pushed the door open, moving into the room cautiously. 

He scanned the room, his eyes settling on a dark heap crumpled on a sofa at the back of the room- it seemed to be emitting the strange noises. 

He moved closer, his movements still cautious, looking down as he neared the couch. 

It was that her. Darcy.

His eyes widened slightly as he moved closer to examine her. 

She seemed to be moaning slightly, clutching her stomach as she writhed on the couch. He glanced around her, seeing a tangle of documents strewn across the Plexiglass coffee table, her laptop logged onto a complicated spreadsheet, 2 empty coffee cups nearby, empty capsule strips littered nearby. 

“Oh gawd,” she muttered into the cushion, tensing slightly. His gaze snapped back to her, watching her try to shift into a comfortable position.

She seemed to notice that there was someone by her and she glanced up slowly, her hair falling around her face in soft waves, as she blearily tried to make out who it was. 

When her sight shifted into focus, her eyes widened as she jerked back, trying to sit up quickly, wincing as she did so. 

“JEEZ-“ she muttered, trying to right herself, clutching a couple of throw cushions to her body. “Must you always be such a creeper,” she mumbled, swiping a stray chunk of hair away from her face. 

“You seem to be experiencing some physical discomfort,” Loki stated simply, gazing down at her. 

 

“Yeah, no shit,” she muttered. “Don’t you have a party to be at or something?” she continued, clutching her stomach as a wave of pain rippled in her abdomen. She winced, pursing her lips and tensing her posture, curling into a tight ball, clutching the cushions to her. 

“Evidently, I left,” Loki said dismissively, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?” he asked delicately, as she bit her lip, crossing her legs tighter, trying to dispel the pain. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, closing her eyes, squeezing her eyes tight as she hunched over, pushing the cushion into her gut, groaning slightly. 

“You don’t look fine,” Loki quipped, his hands tucked behind him as he regarded her. 

“Look, can you just- just leave me be?” Darcy snapped as she looked up to glower at him, before doubling over again, muttering a curse to herself. 

Surprisingly, Loki fell silent, watching her as she wriggled about, trying to ease the discomfort. He moved over, casually plucking a book from the shelves beneath the coffee table and began to read, sitting across from her. 

Some time passed, and Loki was about to complete the first chapter when he heard a sniffle. He glanced over the top of his book to see Darcy’s face scrunched up, a few hot tears squeezing out from beneath her lids as she agonized. 

“Are you al-“ he started as she whimpered, quivering slightly, her hazy focus telling of the fact that she barely clung on to consciousness. 

He moved over to her, reaching out to touch her. 

“Go away,” she mumbled, drowsily swatting his hand away as she tried to keep it together. 

“You need help,” he insisted, frowning down at her. “She needs help,” Loki snapped, glancing wildly about the room. “is there no Midgardian remedy for these ailments?” he questioned, hoping the sentient computer programme would respond.

“There is a first aid cabinet in the corner, sir,” JARVIS responded, as a hidden silver compartment opened automatically in the far right of the room. Loki moved swiftly toward it, removing the rectangular white box within and began to rifle through it, trying to decipher which one of the many foiled packets she would require. 

“Damn this,” he muttered, glaring at the many packets. 

“It seems she is suffering from an abdominal ailment, sir- she might benefit from an antacid or a painkiller,” JARVIS offered. 

Loki found a tab of antacids and popped out 2 tablets, turning to hand them to her, his eyes widening slightly as he realized that she had already passed out, her body still tightly wound in agony.


	8. Resolute is a polite term for obstinate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long to update. I’ve been very swamped with work. In retrospect, there are many things I would change about this story, my characterization has been quite flawed. So, just to note, just in case any of you spot a paradigm shift in their personalities, Jane is going to be written to be less empathetic and friendly, very contrary to what has been written in previous chapters. Seeing her again in Thor & Thor 2, I think her friendship (if it could be called that) with Darcy is tenuous and tolerated more than embraced, so from this chapter on, that terse dynamic will be reflected.

Darcy awoke in a plush bed, with warm lights about her. 

She moved to rub her eyes, but felt a slight sharp tug of resistance from her left hand that stung a little and she desisted, letting it fall delicately back to her side. 

She glanced to her side, finding a near empty bag of IV drip hanging limply from a metal pole. Her gaze shifts down, and she is swathed in a thick comforter, in rich shades of vermillion and sienna.

She sighs, stretching her neck back. 

There’s a soft knock on the door and Jane enters. 

“Darcy?” she starts cautiously. 

“Hi,” Darcy mumbled, raising her hand weakly in greeting. 

“Gawd, you’re awake. You just blacked out! Gastroenteritis, they said. Why did you drink coffee on a barely full stomach, you know what that does to your system,” Jane berated, seating herself next to Darcy. 

“If Loki hadn’t found you and alerted JARVIS, you would be worse off!” she continued, tutting at the sight of the IV trailing down to Darcy’s hand.

“Sorry Mom, I was sorting data for you and just got really into it, geez,” Darcy grumbled struggling to sit up. 

Jane reached forward and helped her sit upright, careful not to tug on the IV.

“Well, thanks,” Jane relented. “But you really should try to take better care of yourself! I’ve had to manage for the past 3 days on my own.” 

“3 days? I’ve been out for 3 days?” Darcy repeated, incredulous. “Holy shit.” She muttered. 

“Yeah well. You rest now. I’ll see you back in the lab soon,” Jane says with a nod, patting her on the arm before rising to leave, leaving her to her thoughts. 

Darcy sighed, leaning against the headboard, gazing around. Judging from the lush décor, she was probably still at Stark Tower. Which made sense, since Jane had mentioned wanting access to one of the R&D floors, needing to consult with the energy experts. 

Darcy glanced out the window, peering through the panes. The sky was a dark, hazy grey, threatening to split at the seams and pour. 

The hours passed and she sat there, fiddling, commiserating to a Thor and Erik who swung by to say hello with a bunch of droopy looking freesias, placing it in the empty soda bottle by her bed. 

“There’s nothing to do here,” she groaned, which Thor responded to with a firm but friendly remark about healing faster when one focuses on rest- or some jazz like that. She sighs, thanking them for coming by. 

She slips in and out of sleep, fidgeting, trying not to strain the IV on her hand. 

“Darcy?”

Darcy started, turning to face the door, and the source of the voice. She knew that voice and once recognition kicked in, her heart began pounding harder. 

Loki stood at the door as it stood ajar, peering at her. He walked in, closing the door behind him, settling into the chair Jane sat in hours back. 

“Um…hi,” she greeted, cursing herself for flushing, knowing he would pick up on it.   
She waited, waiting for his taunt, the jibe about roses blooming on ivory or some crap. 

But it never came. Instead he sat there, gazing at her curiously. 

Eventually, the silence wore thin, and she cleared her throat, nodding. “I guess I owe you thanks for getting help,” she offered, pursing her lips.

Loki looked at her curiously, waiting for her to continue. 

“Well, thanks. It’s good that you found me,” she said with a slight nod. 

“Gladly,” he obliged with a nod of his own, his gaze still trained on her. 

She waited for him to leave, to issue a brief comment about her callous behaviour, and this time, she wasn’t disappointed. 

“Although, it wouldn’t hurt for you to exercise more care in your behaviour,” he continued, a scowl marring his features. “You mortals are so fragile susceptible to such an immense array of ailments,” he said with a shake of his head.

Darcy exhaled loudly, sighing. “Yeah okay, sorry for being a mortal and all. Thanks for your help, you can just…just go now.”

Loki arched a brow at her words, nodding before glancing down. “Would you like me to?” he asked eventually, looking up at her, his expression inscrutable. 

Darcy’s eyes widened for a split second at his words before she pursed her lips, shaking her head, before she spoke. “Well…some company is better than no company, but you don’t have to stay here. I know you find me stupid and clumsy and shit- so you don’t have to-“

“And who told you that?” Loki asked sharply, his gaze latched onto hers again.

Darcy recoiled slightly at his tone but met his ferocity with her own. “No one needs to tell me anything,” she responded harshly, “I know how you look at me, how you regard me, you’re always telling me I’m inferior in some way, at every opportunity you get so, it’s not exactly hard to guess,” she finished, looking at him, exasperated. 

“I came to check on your welfare, because the last time I saw you, you were swooning and you eventually lost consciousness,” Loki responded with gritted teeth, her absurd indignance rubbing against him the wrong way. 

“Well, I’m here and I’m awake, thanks for the concern,” Darcy said sourly, turning away and staring out of the window determinedly. 

Loki rose to leave, the door slamming behind him. 

The nerve of that mortal! He seethed. What kind of…he shook his head, trying to comprehend why he bothered at all to pay her a visit, if she was going to greet him with the same kind of churlish vitriol he could find elsewhere. 

\---

Darcy is back at her desk, sipping carefully at a large cup of soup. The doctor told her to take it easy- so no Taco Bell, Chipotle, Thai- or anything that would challenge her digestive system for a while. She acquiesced grudgingly, her hand still bruised from the IV and not wanting to revisit those days. 

Loki had taken care to avoid her, with forced interactions being nothing more than a nod in the other’s direction- cordial but very, very cold. 

She found him moody, bitchy and annoying, while he found her absurd, tempestuous and tedious- this arrangement suited them just fine. 

“Darcy!” Jane barked, breaking her out of her reverie and making her burn her lip on her soup. 

“Fuc- what is it, Jane?!” she called back, irascible. “It’s 5.37pm, I’ve already done most of the filing for today, cut me some slack!” 

The work had increased a fair bit since Jane began working with SHIELD, especially since they could provide her with all the lab space and equipment she needed. Between that and her basement/garage space- this was a major upgrade and Jane leapt at the opportunity like a rabid dog at a juicy in bone ribeye. 

It also meant they got their own apartments. Well, Jane usually shared with Thor, and Loki and him usually shared an apartment. 

“No, this isn’t work related. Not really. I need you to keep an eye for Loki over the weekend,” she said, her voice firm, but her tone somewhat sheepish. 

That got Darcy’s attention and she turned around in her swivel chair, her expression incredulous, annoyed. 

“Are you kidding me? The dude hates me! And how do I even-“ Darcy sputters, while Jane holds up a hand to interrupt. 

“Look, SHIELD has a couple of agents watching him as well, and he’s on surveillance- it’s just for the weekend alright? And Thor wants someone familiar keeping an eye on him. We’re going on a trip,” Jane explained, stuttering a little on the last few words. 

Darcy looked at her, her expression that of mounting annoyance and disbelief. “Seriously? Because you two need a weekend getaway, I have to nanny your dude’s little brother?” she snaps. 

Jane then moves to Plans B & C, issuing threats about disowning her as an assistant, before finally deciding to pay her a little for her time.

Darcy accepts with grudging glee (that was when she grumbled, talking about how Jane owed her, while her face struggled to conceal the smile spilling on it.)

Jane leaves that day- a little poorer- while Darcy slowly packs her things, thinking of how to spend the extra cash. Rent wasn’t an issue now that they had their apartments- so the spare money was a welcome treat.

Jane wasn’t content with Loki being completely alone (well, Thor wasn’t, so by default, neither was Jane- a 1 for 1 deal with these two). So Darcy unlocked Jane and Thor’s apartment, pushing in. 

She moves to the couch (Pft, their bedroom? Hell no, Lord knows what action those sheets have been seeing), dumping a duffel bag onto it. Sure, her apartment was nearby. Ish. If you counted a couple of floors down in the next block nearby, so she decided to just bring a whole ton of stuff to avoid shuttling back and forth. 

She hears a shuffle of feet, tensing and what she sees is nothing that she expects. She finds Loki wet, hair dripping, a white towel slung on his hips. She flushes crimson, hands flailing as she struggles between closing her eyes and looking away, and wanting to stare. 

“Tcha- dude, clothes!” she manages, sputtering incoherently. 

“Why are you here?” Loki demands, his tone sharp and imperious as he gives her a disgusted one over. His eyes fall on the overnight bag and he sighs deeply. 

“This is Thor’s doing, wasn’t it?” he asked through gritted teeth, his fists curling as he spoke.

“Look, I was literally paid to be here, okay, so I’m as thrilled as you,” Darcy said with no little exasperation, turning to Loki with a set jaw. “I’m just going to sit here and chill with some movies alright? This doesn’t have to get shitty. You do your thing, I do mine- we ignore each other. Happy?” 

A small muscle tightens in Loki’s jaw and he mutters something that sounds vaguely like assent before he moves toward her, leaning in.

“Fine, we’ll comply by your little regulations but Miss Lewis,” he says quietly. “It’s rude to ogle,” he murmurs, before drawing back, leaving Darcy indignant, mildly flustered, and curiously glad she was caught in what she was in.


End file.
